Obsessive Compulsive Sock Disorder

Managed 0 to 60 over a few hours and by 7pm had worked myself into a laughing, shouting, multitasking, multimooded frenzy . All or nothing. Everything had to be done. Madness. Obsessing over, among other things, an odd sock. When it comes to my obsessing,  an odd sock is a fine target. . .  none of the "other things"  mattered. Ok I did specifically want that pair (long fluffy bed socks for daughter) but it got ridiculous, any other socks would have done by then (8pm ish so was peaking frenzy-wise) . ."I know they were both on that table the other day so it can't have gone far . .can it? It cant have left the house can it? No. So that only means searching the  house? and then what . .the garden? surely not . . ?   Yeah but I could've dropped it outside on the way in from the dryer in the shed. Ok, so go look then. Its pitch black & raining so it wont be much use tonight  if you do find it out there . .but go on. Far be it from me to stop you now. So I do go, all the time having an "out loud" conversation with myself, I suppose, about how there was no point looking out there and how I was wasting my time. But the "me" who I was trying to tell just kept on looking and would not listen.Racing back in through the kitchen, eyes scanning everywhere, I saw a vinyl bag full of fluffy teddy/dolls clothes .  . . ".No it wouldn't have got stuffed in there when I was tidying earlier . . .No way . You're not seriously gonna empty that lot out and go through it are you? Oi? Are you?  It wont be in there, why would it?" and it wasn't. Utterly pointless. "Ok so I'll just forget the fluffy bedsock, it doesn't matter , I need to stop now anyway. My head is spinning with it all." My mind was running ragged,jagged with the sock, bath, towels, jarnies, sock? toy rat*, talc, window shut, drink, blah blah sock?  The Coronation Street theme tune in the background was having a sort of "pavlov's dog" effect on me.Salivating for a mouth full of bitter sweet smoke. Meaning rapid de-celaration was within  necessary reach. . . . .In fact I feel so far removed from that jaggedness now that its hard to even remember the extent of it & feel how urgent it felt to stop it . . . next time I gonna write before I "slow down".  So tonight*  it wasn't so much a reward as a mere calmant . . . .All is calm.  I've totally given up on the sock. I dont care if its lying out there in the rain.
 (*who has his head poked behind my glasses, singing something to the tune of jingle bells as I try, the following morning, to make this readable)
(*last night, as dint post till this morn . . .was too "calm" last night)